Morty and a Bottle of Jack
by astro-zombie1l
Summary: When the nightmares are too much, Morty turns to some chemical help.


_I might as well, you know? H-how bad could it be? If, you know, my own grandpa does it like everyday and stuff?_

Morty stood in front of the mini fridge where Rick kept all his crispy, frozen liquor. As he glanced over his shoulder he viewed a passed out Rick snoring at considerable decibels, a sloppy dribble of saliva hanging from his gaping mouth. Bottle upon bottles were stacked, some containing more fluid than others. Morty chose an amber hued bottle that looked stylish and nearly full to the brim.

He unscrewed the tight cap and took a substantial swig. It was very bitter and tasted almost as if it had come straight out of a wooden box. Although it was harsh, Morty didn't mind the burn, knowing it would somehow numb himself of the thoughts and memories that constantly raced through his head. After sitting a moment Morty began to feel the pleasant, buzzing feeling throughout his body.

_Wow. I-I guess this really isn't so bad. I mean, it's more understandable... How much Rick likes this stuff._

He stomached another swig, and then another, before quietly tip-toeing off to his room. He stuffed a dirty pair of pants under his door to hide the light, and sat in the center of his room for a bit playing around with some old science project equipment. As the alcohol further settled, Morty began to relax more and more, forgetting about the terrors that awoke him from his sleep. He began to get playful, wishing for music that he knew could awake anyone in the house.

Time seemed to tick by slowly, yet when Morty glanced at the clock it seemed to be racing him for speed, however he decided to stay immersed in his drunken studies. Suddenly he heard a creak, as if someone in another room was rising from their bed. Morty quickly switched off his lights, removed the buffer of the old laundry under his door, and jumped into bed in a paranoid frenzy. He waited a few moments, and soon his door burst open, causing his heart to skip a beat. Before he could process the situation, the lights were on. He looked up to witness his drunk grandfather stumbling to the edge of his bed.

At first, thoughts of getting caught wide awake at this hour crossed Morty's mind, then he realized what the real threat of getting caught was. He froze, waiting for Rick to declare why he burst into his room at such a late hour, preparing for a way to defend his self.

Rick looked him in the eye and then spouted, "M-Morty, no matter what happens, we're gonna get t-through this, Morty." Rick threw an arm over Morty's shoulders sloppily.

Morty paused for a moment to reflect on the statement, then replied, "S-sure we are, Rick *hiccup*."

Rick stared at him intently for a moment before smiling, "I knew you always hBLLLARGHHad it in ya' kid. I reaBLUARRHGlly did." Soon Morty was holding all of Rick's upper body weight on his shoulders as Rick began to dose off. Morty felt reassured that he hadn't been caught, yet nervous that Rick decided to pull another crazy stunt on the same night Morty grew the grit to do so as well.

Rick began snoring, and Morty grew more uncomfortable by the second. It wasn't long before he began to wonder if Rick had simply decided to fall asleep practically on top of him. Just as his grandfather's weight was enough to make Morty stand up in protest to the discomfort, Rick awoke after falling suddenly onto a hard, spring mattress.

"What the f-... Oh. Hey, S-sorry about that MBLUARGHHorty. I must've- I must've dosed off there." Soon Rick was fast asleep on top of Morty's comforter. Morty decided to seize the opportunity to run to Rick's room and steal another couple swigs of the syrupy liquor. It wasn't long before Morty's head was swimming. Morty once again grew playful and decided to try on a pair of goggles sitting on one of Rick's many shelves. With the goggles on he glanced down and jumped backwards after seeing his organs squirming and convulsing under his own skin. Morty realized Rick's bedroom was far too scary a place to have much fun in, alone.

Morty returned to his room and turned to playing his favorite songs on his computer quietly. The music was enveloping, nearly controlling Morty to move his body and bob up and down with the beat. Soon he got carried away, coaxing Rick awake for a rowdy dance. Rick arose groggily, then glanced at his watch and immediately back up to the one-man party Morty had seemed to get lost in. Rick rose up and turned off the music.

"S-so what? Are you smoking the "reefer" now, or something?"

Morty stopped and stared at Rick, confused and taken off guard.

"Weed! Pot! The "herb", ganja, or whatever you k-kBLURAGH-ids call it these days."

"I'm sorry Rick. I don't understa-"

"Well of course that's the first defense you go to! 'I don't understand!' You kids are all the sa-"

Rick stopped as he noticed Morty stumble into his desk as he was standing completely still. Rick moved closer and leaned in to Morty's face. Sniffing twice, Rick retaliated and pointed an accusing finger towards the boy.

"You've been drinking my Jack!"

Morty stood silently for a few moments, and just as he was about to retaliate, Rick said, "I know that smell Morty, d-don't think I don't. But tell me, MortYY, how long have you been stealing my-BLUAARGHH booze? Especially my Jack. At least you h-BLURAHHG-ave good taste."

Morty gave in, "This was the first time, I s-swear Rick!"

Rick gave him a suspicious glare before realizing Morty had been acting too stupid to be used to handling his alcohol. His face fell into a bored expression as he sighed. "What exactly were you trying to accomplish here, Morty?"

Morty looked down as he searched for an appropriate response. He still didn't want to own up to the liquor he had stolen from his grandpa, although he felt completely justified doing it. And at that thought Morty's blood heated, and the booze gave him the kick of confidence he needed to say, "Y-you know what Rick? I'm sick of putting up with this. Every single night is Hell because of you, Rick. Every s-single time I close my eyes, I see horrible things. Things I wouldn't have, even been able to f-fathom before you a-and, all your crazy adventures came about. And you know what? I'm done with it, Rick. You aren't d-dragging me along to any more of you're c-crazy, messed up dimensions Rick. *hiccup* I'm out!"

Morty's face was red and fuming, but Rick's softened with solemn understanding. The room rested in silence for a bit, as both parties secretly awaited another roused slumber from a family member as a result of Morty's uproar. Rick rubbed his face before voicing, "Morty..." he ran his fingers through his fried hair nervously, "Come here."

Morty skeptically moved closer to his grandfather before being enveloped in a full-body embrace. He froze for a moment, not knowing how to process his face buried into his grandfather's neck. Suddenly Morty allowed the tension to settle from his body, and he wrapped his arms around Rick, his face falling into a confused, pained expression.

"This really isn't how I wanted things to turn out M-Morty. I think I might have, I don't know, assumed you might be more like me than I realized. A-and I guess you are, In ways-SBLUAGHHs that I don't want to admit Morty, but it's still my place to- you know- keep you safe, I guess." Rick didn't let go of the embrace, but seemed to tighten his arms around his grandson as he spoke.

Although Morty was moved by more than his grandfather's words, the only thing he could manage to reply was, "S-so if you forgive me... Could we maybe dance to this next song? And then go to bed?"

"Sou-BLRAGHH-nds good to me."

_-Well shake that asss bitch and let me see what you got-_


End file.
